


Eyes of the Father

by fusiondescent



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Machines, Megaman Inspired, Original Fiction, Robots, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 13:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18661291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fusiondescent/pseuds/fusiondescent
Summary: A machine is brought back to life and grapples with its own identity.





	Eyes of the Father

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for school, but I became so in love with the story that I wanted to share it with others. This is heavily inspired by Megaman X and those of you who read my story Sleepwalking might see similarities between it and this piece.

 

This is how humans die. I heard the stories that are often associated with the brink of death. Light, a man, golden gates. Some claimed to have met God, while others claim to see nothing. Logically, I did not believe in any of those claims. I knew it was only the human mind trying to wrap around the concept of death and by doing so created this picture in their minds to accept it. When I saw that light I knew just how illogical this was. I knew that death would come and take me in violent darkness.

I felt something in me reach out, crying for life. As a machine, I knew that it was a fake emotion.

When my vision returned and I realized that it was not the light that many people claimed to see. Instead, it was only a lamp that hung bright over my body so that a human could repair me. The scientist smiled down at me, his grin reaching either side of his face as he patted my cheeks and whispered a faint ‘huzzah!’ before dimming the light above my head. He didn’t need to. I wonder why he did that. But my eyes readjusted to the new shades.

“Finally, you’re awake.” He began to rub his hands with an already dirty cloth. “How do you feel?”

“Why would I feel?” I replied.

The man over me was silent for a moment, almost taken aback from my reply, then waved his hand side to side, dismissing the question. He was obviously not prepared to talk about ‘feelings’ or ‘emotion’. That was a human concept. A machine did not need to learn things that were human. “Do you know who I am?”

I paused as I looked at him. Analyzing his face and looking back into my data files and memory bank. “Dr. Albert Calum. You are listed as my creator.”

“Yes, that’s right. You remember.” He smiled at me fondly. I could not place it, but he looked at me as how a father would smile down at his child upon holding it for the first time.

“Of course I would. It says so in my base code.”

“Oh….” And the way Calum replied, I almost wished I hadn’t said anything. Something in his voice sounded so upset and sorrowful. But I couldn’t really _care_ , I was a machine. I had no emotion. No capacity to care or to feel. That was how things are supposed to be. “Do you remember anything else?”

I paused. “No.”

“ **Nothing?** ”

I had to think for a moment what he meant by that. Nothing seemed an appropriate answer, however the term nothing meant that: nothing. However, if I remembered nothing then why did it feel as if there was something behind my head ready to pounce? To say that I remembered nothing would mean to lie to my creator, my so-called father. Yet to say that I remembered something would also be a lie, which skewed the truth so much that it seemed a disfigured lie. I was stuck between a lie, which was the truth, and a truth, which was a lie. “Nothing.” The word weighed like iron on my tongue. “Why do you care?”

There was something on Dr. Calum’s lips that wished to be spilled. An explanation that caught on his throat that so dearly wished to jump out and reveal some means of the truth. I could feel his heart rate raise and see how his stomach fell deeper into the bowels of his body. The secret, which he kept from me, hungered to sink its teeth in me, the snake that will consume its prey. I stared at him, and he stared at me. The room melted away and we became the only things in the world. One who was human and the other who was machine. “Come on,” he broke away from the table patting my chest. “Let’s get you up. We have a few more tests to run.”

“Wait,” I raised my hand reaching for him. Calum stopped in his tracks. Not yet staring at me as if something was stopping him.

“What is it?” he finally turned to look at me.

“What is my name?”

Calum stared at me for a moment. I already knew what my name was. If I did not it was something easily searchable in my databanks. I wanted him to tell me it. He was my creator. It seemed _right_ for him to tell me it. To proclaim me as his child by saying it aloud. “Your name is Elegy.”

* * *

 

  1. A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
  2. A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
  3. III. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.



 

* * *

 

The days passed and I became quickly acquainted with the lab. I was already programmed with the information that I needed to work with Calum. Picking up heavy equipment, helping Calum with machinery, and doing whatever other odd job he needed from me. Calum still took the time to show me how to work certain machines I knew to work, where equipment was stored, and where to put material he bought. The feeling of relearning everything seemed familiar in my mind. Some things feeling rather dejavu, and others like I had already lived this moment before. It was as if the memory was wiped from my mind.

Sometimes, in even rarer moments I would find myself remembering things that I never experienced. As if an unknown past I lived was bleeding into me.

His house was quaint. A small cottage off to the side of the larger city surrounded mostly by woods. Spruce trees dotted his property and to the very side was his lab which he spent the majority of his time. I did not see anyone else besides him and his other creations, which I considered my siblings. If anyone visited, he would hide me deep in his lab and tell me not to come out unless he was in danger (I would need to anyway, as the Laws of Robotics deemed it so). I did not question such strange ritual and did as I was told, watching from afar as he and his other creations would spend time with their guests while I was left alone in a broom closet.

One day he took me out on his property. I wondered if this was the day he would finally allow me outside in the real world. But we only came barely 10 feet from his cottage before he stopped me. “Here,” he said.

“Here?”

Calum pointed at his feet. “This is as far as you can go.”

I nodded. But deep in me I wanted to break through these invisible walls that kept me inside. To be free and know freedom. Being stuck in the lab for hours on end made me itch for something to do as if I craved something from my past. For that reason, television enticed me. It had become the gateway to the outside world as I watched the news on the tiny television box he gave me. Learning human rituals outside of this cage became a fascination. How soap operas were always so overly dramatic. What the news reported and why. I wondered what it felt like to come and go as I pleased. I began to envy my siblings were lucky that they could leave this house, but I was bound by protocols that had long been set in place by Human laws. I must obey my creator, my father, my master. Even if I wanted to leave, even if I were to stand at the edge of my boundaries every night, no matter how hard I tried I would never be able to step a foot outside. If I did it would mean decommission, and those robots that ran from it were considered berserk. They died too, but those that ran and tried to be their own person were hunted by the police like prey. The Great Hunt is what some people on TV would call it. They showed off their prize, the dead berserk robot, and proclaim that robots must obey their masters.

I found comfort in the outside world even if I could never embrace it. It pulled me away from the thoughts of my inner self. I could obsess over the world outside for hours to escape the gnawing feeling that ate at me. I began to relate to horror films, comparing the villain to the past, which I could not remember, and the person who must escape as myself, the one who ran from the past. I had no reason to run from it, only that it filled me with a sense of ‘fear’ for the unknown that chased me. It was illogical, but something I had come to accept. Both fear and envy became the two ‘emotions’ that ate away at me. Every time I would ask Calum if I could go outside I was told that I could not. That I was not ready. The yearning and happiness of my father turned into resentment.

I just wanted to be free.

* * *

 

I sat with one of my siblings, Dirge, to talk about the outside after he had come home. We were in the lab, he was sitting on a table and I was sitting on a stool. He looked rather annoyed from being bombarded with so many questions. Rolling his eyes at me I would almost look starry eyed at him. I would always drink in everything Dirge told me. Listening to him speak as if he were Jesus preaching to the masses. My imagination always carried me elsewhere when I was with him. “Don’t you ever wonder why you’re stuck in here?” I wondered if he finally became sick of my endless questions.

“No.” I had no reason to question my creator. His words were law, and that was the end of it. I could not question anything. I could not allow myself to. Unlike my siblings who may whine or toe the edge of protocol put in place I knew my place in the world. That was to obey humans, and never to question. “I do what I am told, even if I do not like it.”

Dirge waved his hand side-to-side, “You always did have a stick up your ass. Even from before…” His voice trailed off with a shrug.

I tipped my head to the side curious. There was a blink as I watched him carefully. Wondering what he meant by that. How he spoke to me before I had even been a thought in anyone’s mind. “What do you mean? Did you know me before?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I stood from my seat taking a step forward. Dirge leaned away from me. Placing a hand to my chest and shoving me back. I somehow felt so close to grasping the truth, which evaded me for months, but at the same time, I did not want to know. As if the unknown past, as if some program was preventing me from knowing what happened before.

Dirge smiled at me. Mischievous and cruel. He lifted a hand to his head, tapping a single finger on his chin thinking for a moment. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. I mean, if Calum didn’t let you know then maybe it’s not a good idea that I let you in on it.” He paused staring at me. Every joint in me felt stuck. Time moved in slow motion. Slower than ever before. I stared at my brother not as my sibling but as an enemy now. As a wall to climb in order to understand all the thoughts that spun in his head.

“Did Dr. Calum tell you not to tell me?” I was desperate to look for loopholes.

Dirge shrugged, “Not really. I learned from another of the ‘bots. I was out shopping for the old man when he gave the order. So he didn’t tell me directly, I’m not breaking anything.”

“Then…” I grabbed Dirge’s arm. Tightening, constricting. I wouldn’t let this opportunity pass me. I hungered for the knowledge that I did not allow myself to have. Now that I could take a bite of that fruit I sunk every bit of myself into it. Letting the juice drip down my chin and letting it consume even myself. “Then you need to tell me.”

Dirge struggled. Uncomfortable with my new obsession. “You’re hurting me—“

“You know we can’t feel.” I stared into his eyes. “Tell me. I need to know.” I pressed my other hand to my forehead. “For months I’ve felt as if I was watching myself live my life. Memories that were not supposed to exist floating in my mind as I tried to grapple with the existence of living in the present while still living in this past. Everything that I’ve done I felt as if I’ve done before.” My grip tightened on him. “I want to be free from the cage I’m in.”

Dirge stared at me silently. I saw fear in his eyes. The same fear that I sometimes saw in Calum’s eyes when I stood on the very boundary that he set for me. I knew he wondered if I would ever take a step forward. But I was a good machine. I _never_ broke protocol. “You died.” Dirge began to paw at my hand that held his arm. “You went berserk, broke the laws of robotics. They put you down but Calum loved you so much he brought you back. He knew the ramifications but he did it anyway.” There was almost a laugh in his voice as he turned away. Trying to pry my fingers from his arm. He might have sobbed had he the ability to. “You always were his favorite,” came a spat.

            “What did I do?”

            “Jesus—How should I know? I didn’t mourn for your death, and I sure as hell didn’t mourn for your rebirth.” Still, I could see how the words he said pained him. How he wanted to take those words back. But he couldn’t, and it was too late anyway.

I let go of his arm, staring at the indentation I made on it. I didn’t feel mournful of the harm that I caused. I stood upright, looking down at my hands, looking into myself and the memories that ate at me. It made sense why Calum didn’t want me to leave the house. Why I had to hide from other people when company was over. Bringing back dead robots was unethical, illegal, especially those that broke the law, labeled berserk, and were killed. I didn’t know the specifics, but I learned from TV, all the news stations which talked about it, often stated it was because death was the hardest thing to deal with. Robots that remembered their death would often commit suicide or go berserk. Even those that had their memory wiped would remember things of their past. Data was never really deleted and merely overwritten. It was a terrible ordeal, a fate worse than death itself. That’s what they said. That is what I knew.

      I understood what they were talking about now with this new revelation.

Everything I had done to be a good machine, everything that I did to ensure that I did not break any rule, seemed for naught. My entire existence broke the delicate laws which held society together. I was set up to fail, even after I tried my best to be the best robot I could be. My life felt like a lie. Dirge began to look at me strange. Craning his head slightly to get a better look at me. “Are you ok?”

I stared at the wall for a few seconds. Trying to process everything that unfolded in the past few minutes. “Yes. I’m fine.” I wasn’t. But I had to make sure that I didn’t let thoughts run loose. I had to confirm it from Calum himself, maybe Dirge was trying to upset me. “Thank you.” To be honest, I didn’t know if I should thank him or curse myself for the hole I begun to dug.

* * *

 

            The days that slowly passed began to form together from one day into the next. As if a calendar had been soaked in water and no month could be torn apart from one another. One day bled into the next and I found myself standing at the very edge of the house more often. When I stared into myself I didn’t know if I was staring at the person that was me, or the person that I was claimed to be. I remembered nothing of my past life, but Calum seemed to treat me like the person I was before. I began to wonder if he loved me for the thing I used to be or the machine that stood in front of him with corrupt life. The eyes of the father that I often looked fondly upon seemed to stare right through me searching for someone who wasn’t there. I wanted to scream at him and tell him to look at me for who I was now, and not for whatever I was before. I was not that person anymore, I was not that berserk machine. Those looks my siblings gave me were not envious of attention, but pity.

            I began to contemplate my own existence. The ‘emotions’ that I learned through observation seemed to grow louder in my mind. To run from this false existence and to be free. But by doing so I know I would become berserk, become apart of the hunt, and die. Suicide weighed heavy in my mind as well. If I could not be free then I’d free myself with death. Bringing harm to myself was against the laws of robotics, but if I were to kill myself then no punishment would be taken against me. I would be free and I would die on my own terms. To me, that was the greatest freedom of them all. So often I would take a screwdriver and wish to plunge it into my brain. Even more often did I want to plunge my head into the acid bath in the workshop so Calum would not be able to rescue anything from me. I would be dead to the world, only existing in the memory of others, as it should be.

            I approached Calum about this one day. I stood next to him as he worked on one of my siblings. She, Vanitas, was deep in sleep. Her body was lanky as if a human skeleton. I wondered if she endured the same hell I went through.

            “I spoke to Dirge the other day.”

            “Did you?” He grabbed a tool from my hand. “What did you talk about?”

            “We talked about me.”

            The air in the room shifted, Calum’s eyes glancing towards me nervously as he messed around with the inside of Vanitas. I wondered if this was how human doctors treated their patients. “What did he say?”

            “That I used to be dead.” I let the words sink in. Staring deep into his eyes as he stared into Vanitas’s insides. “You brought me back to life because I was your favorite and I went berserk in my past life.”

            “That isn’t true—”

            “It isn’t?”

            Calum looked at me for some time. I could tell that he was lying just from the way fear seemed to drip from his face. Even if the soul was a false concept, I could see why people claimed that the eyes were the doorway to them. His lies were so plainly painted in them. Why I bothered to ask him a question I already knew the answer to I did not know. Maybe, deep in me, I wanted him to admit this to me so I could die with some semblance of peace. “Dirge is only trying to upset you. You understand how your siblings are.” I really didn’t.

            I pressed a hand into Vanitas. Her body was still warm. “Is that what you think?”

            The weight of the room became heavier and heavier with each passing second. “I know it for a fact. I built him.” He tried to smile but it fell short. It was obvious that he was evading the question, lying through his teeth. From his reaction alone I knew what I was going to do, but I still wanted something from him. I wanted a real father’s love. Not this false love he gave to this other Elegy.

            “Of course.” I looked away from him.

            Calum sighed, putting the tools down and wiping his hands on the already dirty rag. He walked around the table and gently laid his hands on me. There he brought me into a hug. I pressed my head against his body, staring out into the workshop with nothing in my eyes. The affection in this hug was for another and I could feel it. “Don’t worry about Dirge. He’s only a machine that doesn’t know better.”

            Yet Dirge felt like the most human amongst us all in this house. I looked away from him.

            “I understand.” My body ached.

            Calum smiled at me, and it sickened me. It wasn’t directed at me, but the person I used to be. Slowly he walked over to me. Wrapping his arms around me. Had he done this when I was born, I would have felt as if he really was my father. Now that I stood here being held in his arms, I felt nothing but resentment. Still, I hugged him back awkwardly. “There, there. I know things are hard. Fitting in with your siblings might be troublesome, but you are a good robot.” He smiled. “I love you.”

            I nodded my head. “I do too, father.” I did too.

* * *

 

            From the conversation alone, I knew that I had to kill myself. It took me weeks of back and forth between myself. Even if I wanted to die, there was that part of me that rejected death. I would sit at night watching the stars quietly battling myself over my own life. It was genuine fear that struck me as I practically shook from the idea of death. I understood why humans obsessed with it. How it was so mysterious and enticing, yet repulsive. I wondered if there were any humans out there that were envious of the fact that I died and had been revived later.

There was one particular day I had chosen to kill myself. To stop living the lie that Calum gave me. I told Dirge because he had granted me the knowledge of my birth and it seemed right for him to know. He was my brother, but the knowledge given to me was the most fatherly thing that I have ever experienced.

I stood in front of the acid bath in the workshop, ready to plunge my head into the basin so everything about me would be corrupt. I tested it before, making sure that it was acidic enough so that there was no hope of rebooting me. Both my hands gripped the edge, my fingertips so close to the acid that I could almost feel death sing to me. I did not want to say goodbye to anyone and die quietly, and besides, Calum did not deserve anything from me from stealing my death away from me.

            I dipped my hand in the acid, testing that it would work. When I pulled back, most of my left hand was gone. It was beautiful. So I prepared myself to sink my head into the basin and succumb to death. Before I could dunk my head into the acid I heard the door open and a resounding “Stop!” fill the room. I turned my head and saw Calum standing at the doorway with Dirge and my other siblings cowering behind him. I said nothing to him. “What are you doing?” He began to approach me carefully.

            “I want to be free. I’m going to make everything right again.”

            “By killing yourself?” I looked into the acidic water. It shimmered like a rainbow. Death never felt so enticing. It never looked so beautiful.

            The longer I stared in it, the more hypnotized I became by the waters. I was beginning to snap. Here I stood at the edge of it all. I was staring into the abyss, and in its reflection I saw myself staring back. Was it so wrong to feel this way? So wrong that if I killed myself I would be shunned by society? Was it better to turn myself in and be dissected by the hands of the father that both created me and ruined my life? I didn’t want that. I just wanted to die peacefully. I just wanted to be happy, but even in the bliss of my death anger still crawled into my throat. I wanted him to shut up, I wanted him to see me for who I really was.

            I didn’t have time to think before I turned. Picking up a screwdriver and plunging it into his neck. But even as my father, my executioner, fell to his knees choking on blood, I felt nothing. My siblings did nothing. Maybe they too endured a similar fate. Maybe they thought he deserved it. No one would cry over him. Even if us machines could not cry, not a tear would fall for him.

The screwdriver was firmly planted into his neck. Blood spilled all over the workshop as he stared at me. Did he finally see me for who I was? I wondered if he did. I wondered if he realized the pain he put me in. My siblings’ gaze raised from the father who still squirmed on the floor to me. I had set the stage, but I didn’t want to be seen. In a frenzy my body turned away running from this room. Pushing past my siblings who kept staring at me and towards some other freedom. My death that I wished for so bad had been tainted by Calum’s presence that I could not bear to dunk my head into the acid. Part of me wanted to stop. But I kept walking forward. To the outside. To the boundary.

I wanted to escape. I knew that if I walked outside of this invisible wall that I would surely die. That someone will find me, recognize me for who I am, and kill me. Even if I would die being labeled berserk for crimes I did not commit, for crimes I do not remember, at least I can walk through the gates of heaven and experience the world outside.

So I took a step and white washed over me.

This is how machines die.


End file.
